


They Also Serve

by Barb Cummings (Rahirah)



Series: The Barbverse [112]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Gen, Kidfic, outsider pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-24
Updated: 2010-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-14 00:58:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/143606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rahirah/pseuds/Barb%20Cummings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not everyone saves the world.  Some of them just make a mean cup of coffee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Also Serve

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place in the same universe as "Raising In the Sun," "Necessary Evils," and "A Parliament of Monsters." It contains spoilers for previous stories in the series. This was written for the Schmoop Bingo prompt "Coffee Shop."

They don't come in every night. But two, three, four nights a week, sometimes, around two or three in the morning, there they are, the small blonde woman and the skinny blond guy in black leather. They walk to the booth in the back, the one that's got a view of the door and the parking lot, and slide into the orange vinyl seats, and they study the menu like it's a battle plan. Most nights they order the grand slam breakfast: two eggs, two pancakes, bacon and sausage with a side of hash browns, and a Danish for her and extra sausage for him (he never eats the pancakes - says the restaurant doesn't carry the brand of syrup he's partial to.) They clean their plates and ask for seconds - sometimes with enthusiasm, sometimes grimly, like they're fueling up for the apocalypse. (It's Sunnydale. Maybe they are.)

Sometimes they're triumphant. Sometimes they're terse and snappish, thunderclouds over their heads. Sometimes they're sweet and giggly, playing footsie under the table. Sometimes they're all business, heads together, talking in low voices about stuff even weirder than your average 3:00 AM coffeehouse convo, and that's pretty darned weird. Sometimes he flirts with you when you refill his coffee, in a way that means he's really flirting with her. On some nights they sneak off to the restroom while their orders are cooking, and come back flushed and disheveled and grinning. Other nights they look like they've been mugged, or maybe like they've been mugging someone, and she makes repairs to her makeup with a compact and a wet-nap.

You learn their names, and they learn yours. (It's still like that in Sunnydale.) You congratulate them when she starts showing for the first time, and every time after. As the years go by, he stops bleaching his hair, though she doesn't. Sometimes they come in much earlier in the evening, an ever-expanding passel of kids in tow, and act like any other family out on a low-budget night on the town. He starts going grey, and the fine lines around her eyes get deeper. Neither of them is quite as skinny any longer (though still way skinnier than you'd expect after all those breakfasts.) But when the big smelly thing with the purple scales tries to break into the kitchen, they're still the ones who leap the counter and drown it in the deep fryer.

Sometimes you think you ought to just ask them. How she managed to rip that sink right out of the bathroom wall that one time, or why he doesn't reflect in the window behind their favorite booth. What exactly they know about the reasons why the death rate in Sunnydale is half what it was when you were a girl. Other times you think you're better off not knowing, because in Sunnydale, the more you know, the more you have to pretend you don't. You've lived here all your life, and it's not like you couldn't guess, if you had to. But you don't. You just smile when you see them holding hands beneath the table. And bring them their orders (sunny side up for him, scrambled for her), and slip her an extra Danish on the house. And maybe stop by Kohlermann's Butcher Shop every now and then for the brand of 'syrup' he's partial to.

Because when all's said and done, it's none of your business. Whoever they are, and whatever they do, they're doing it just fine. Besides, they tip pretty well. And in Sunnydale, that counts for a lot.

 **END**


End file.
